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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213109">Far Too Young To Die</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowchristy/pseuds/rainbowchristy'>rainbowchristy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Cancer, Children, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Sad Ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2018-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2018-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:41:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowchristy/pseuds/rainbowchristy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil didn't think much of Dan's sudden obsession with playing Panic! songs on the piano. He didn't think much of Dan's long sleeves or his lack of uploading. Well, that was until he found Dan's journal and became concerned for his safety.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Far Too Young To Die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've literally been writing this since the start of the year but had to put it on hold for my KRB fic. Finally finished it though so here it is! Hope you enjoy!</p><p>TW: Swearing, heavy references to suicide/suicidal thoughts, homophobia, pregnancy/childbirth &amp; two more are at the end as they are spoilers.</p><p>AN ARCHIVE WARNING APPLIES!!! See endnotes for spoilers!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It has been two months since Dan and Phil officially moved in with each other. Though Dan spent most of his time at Phil’s old flat, this place was </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This flat, in London, had </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr Daniel James Howell and Mr Philip Michael Lester</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the lease. Still, Phil wanted more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted the names on the lease to read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr Philip Michael and Mr Daniel James Howell-Lester</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Oh how wonderful it would be to have that but Phil knew it was impossible. Dan didn’t like him like that. Dan liked them as friends and Phil would rather be friends than strangers or, god forbid, enemies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I never so adored you,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m twisting allegories now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil poured the milk for his coffee as a beautiful melody came from Dan’s room. He was playing the piano again. He listened to Dan play a familiar song as he placed some bread in the toaster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After breakfast was ready, Phil walked the short distance to their rooms and stopped outside Dan’s door. He could hear him mumbling the lyrics to </span>
  <em>
    <span>This Is Gospel</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he played the tune perfectly. Phil didn’t really want to stop him but he did, lightly knocking on the door and hearing the music on the other side stop. Pushing the door open, he sees Dan and smiles, “Breakfast’s ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan stood and followed him out of the room and towards the kitchen where toast and coffees awaited them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking of filming today,” Phil said conversationally. “Have you got any ideas?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, I don’t know. You can’t rush perfection, Phil,” he joked in reply, clearly trying to ignore the seriousness of Phil’s question. Dan hadn’t uploaded anything in almost two months and while Phil earned enough money for them to get by, they needed Dan’s salary too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell back into an uncomfortable silence after that, Dan finishing his breakfast quickly and retreating back to his black and white keys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Phil put the plates and mugs in the sink - promising himself to deal with them later - and headed to his room. The earlier he started filming, the earlier he could upload.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan, I just finished filming. I was wondering if you wanted to watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Silent Voice</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me? We bought it a week ago and still haven’t watched it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, just give me a minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll go set up.” Phil left and headed to the lounge, placing the disk in the player before going into the kitchen to make popcorn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Dan emerged from his room, he was dressed in a black shirt and some flannel pants; he obviously couldn’t be bothered getting dressed today. To be honest, Phil would have been wearing PJs too if he hadn’t filmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look awful,” Phil observed, picking up the large bowl of freshly made popcorn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gee, thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean. Are you feeling alright? You look like you might be getting sick?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” They settled on the couch and Phil pressed play, putting the bowl of popcorn between them to share.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At some point during the film, Dan lay down, resting his head on Phil’s lap. Phil didn’t mind; he simply took to carding his fingers through Dan’s hair which the younger found to be extremely comforting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was so good!” Dan said, sitting up on the couch a lot closer to Phil than he had been at the start of the film.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The art was so pretty,” Dan enthused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so pretty.” Phil retorted, not realising what he’d said what he said out loud until he saw Dan’s shocked face. His mouth hung open a little and his eyes were wide as his cheeks tinted a lovely shade of red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan seemed to recollect himself as he whispered “thank you,” and looked away. Phil didn’t like that; he much more prefered looking into Dan’s chocolate-coloured eyes. Lightly placing his hand on Dan’s chin, he turned the boy’s head to look at him. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as he leaned forward, connecting his lips with Dan’s for a short but still wonderful kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan wasn’t kissing back but he wasn’t pushing Phil off of him either. Once their lips separated, Phil opened his eyes to meet Dan’s which were filling with tears. Without a word, Dan stood abruptly and ran from the room. Phil heard the sound of Dan’s bedroom door closing soon after and the sound of his piano.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to complicate you,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t let me do this to myself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil had messed up. He knew Dan wasn’t gay so why did he have to go and kiss him. He clearly didn’t like it. Phil should have pulled away as soon as he realised Dan wasn’t reciprocating the kiss. Hell, Phil shouldn’t have kissed him to begin with. Phil placed the empty popcorn bowl in the sink and grabbed the camera from the lounge. Filming always distracted him and it was productive; it was a win-win. He’d already filmed that morning but he’d just get a longer break before resigning himself to the camera again when he next needed to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After setting up, Phil takes a seat on his bed and starts the video. “Hey, guys!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil finished filming and turned off the camera, deciding to go straight to editing. Hours later, the video was mostly done and Phil was preparing dinner. He hadn’t seen Dan since the kiss but they always ate together so Phil hoped today was no different. Though, everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> different. Phil had kissed Dan and likely ruined the one good thing in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once the gnocchi was ready, Phil set the table, served the two bowls with a glass of Ribena next to each and went to fetch Dan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Knocking lightly on the door, he called out. There were some rummaging sounds coming from inside the room and the click of Dan’s door unlocking. “Yes?” he said. He looked tired with his red eyes and darkly lit room. Phil hoped he hadn’t woken Dan from a nap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, I made dinner.” Dan nodded and followed Phil to the kitchen where the table was set.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The apartment was eerily quiet. There was nearly always some noise whether that’s one of the two filming or watching a funny video, or just the tv playing in the background. “I’m sorry about kissing you,” Phil said, pretending not to see the way Dan’s body tensed at the mention of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘s okay,” Dan replied, yawning. “Dinner’s good. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” After the short conversation, they fell back into an ever-so-slightly less uncomfortable silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two days later, Dan had barely said a word to Phil. He only ever acknowledged Phil when asked a question directly and even then, the answers were never more than one or two words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan was out getting groceries and running some other errands that would take him at least a few hours. Phil had decided to do something nice for Dan; partially as an apology but also not. He just wanted them to go back to normal. Phil decided to clean the house properly and run a nice bath for Dan once he returned. If he had time, he’d make Dan’s favourite meal for dinner too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m chasing roller coasters now,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve got to have you closer now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He started in the lounge. He dusted, sorted and organised the entire room before moving to the kitchen, gaming room, bathrooms and their bedrooms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s room was the equivalent of a Batcave. It clearly hadn’t been tidied in a long time and the room was musty since the door and windows were always shut. Drawing the curtains for the first time in who knew how long, Phil opened the windows to let in some fresh air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil began picking up clothes off the floor and putting them in the washing basket. He then tidied the piano, shelves and bedside table. There was a book on Dan’s bedside table, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Impulse</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Ellen Hopkins. Opening up the drawer, Phil placed the book inside. As he was about to close the draw, Phil caught sight of a tattered black book. Sliding it out, Phil saw Dan’s name printed on the cover in the font of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Death Note</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Phil had never seen it before but he wanted to know where Dan had gotten it from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he shouldn’t snoop but he couldn’t help himself. Once opening the cover, Phil quickly realised the book was Dan’s journal. He began to read the first entry and Phil was saddened by what he found.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear diary,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This feels so stupid to write in a diary. Everyone knows they’re for little kids who have silly secrets to keep. But the internet said it can help with dark thoughts so I thought I’d give it a try. I guess this first entry can be a bit of an introduction. Am I supposed to treat you as a friend? I’m not sure. Anyway, my name is Daniel James Howell, I’m 21 and I live with my best friend, Phil Lester. I guess you could say I have depression? I’ve never been diagnosed. Hell, I’ve never even been to a doctor for this kind of stuff. But from the research I’ve done on the internet, I think it’s safe for me to say I’m depressed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil stopped reading that entry and flicked a couple of pages in. This entry was just over a month ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. Phil thinks I’m perfectly fine but I’m not. I’m falling apart and I don’t know how much longer I can live for. We’re all just buying time till we die anyway. Why not end it early and avoid the pain and suffering that comes with every new day.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil felt tears begin to slip down his face as he read. Dan was suicidal? And had been for at least a month? How had he never noticed? He was supposed to protect Dan, even if he needed protecting from himself. Flicking a few pages more, he read an entry from two weeks ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear diary,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who am I? Most would answer I’m Dan and a YouTuber but that’s not what I mean. That’s not what I see, that’s what others see. That’s what I want people to see. I cut myself yesterday. I didn’t mean to. I was cutting up vegetables and before I realised it, I’d cut my arm. I didn’t really know how to react. I just stared at it. The blood. It was such a wonderful colour. I think red’s my favourite colour now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to cut again. I told myself I’d never do it but it feels so great. The stinging that comes from it, the blood that surfaces. I’ll try not to. I know Phil would be disgusted and probably kick me out if he found out so I’ll try not to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Endless romantic stories,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You never could control me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that Phil had a reason to be scared for Dan’s safety, he disregarded his original moral standing and flicked to a more recent entry. Two days ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think I’m in love with Phil. He kissed me and I didn’t pull away. But I can’t be in love with him. My parents would never forgive me. I can’t be gay! The thing is, I wouldn’t say no if he asked me out. I like him and I have for a while but I can’t just be with him. I don’t want to get hurt. If we did start dating, he’d leave me. He’d leave me as soon as he found someone better than me because why would he stay with me? Why would anyone stay with me? People don’t settle down with the first person they date; it just doesn’t happen. There are endless romantic stories, none of which should ever involve me. People’s first relationship is about exploring and learning so they can improve for the next time. First relationships never last. This is why I can’t date Phil. Besides, it would hurt him even more </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>when I kill myself. I don’t want to hurt him more than I have to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil’s eyes leaked freely as he searched desperately through the entries. He hoped one of them gave some clue as to if Dan had a plan. One particular page caught his attention. At the top of the page, in large, black letters, Dan had written ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s Time</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. This was the most recent entry, written yesterday according to the date.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is it. This is my plan. I’m going to kill myself. In one week exactly, on June 11</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>th</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>, my birthday, my life will end. I’ve got everything planned in my head, I just think having it in a physical manifestation will make it impossible to deny or ignore.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That night, after spending the day with Phil, I will leave my note on the kitchen bench for Phil to find in the morning and leave the flat. My phone, keys and wallet will be left at home. I don’t want to be contactable. I will walk to the bridge Phil took me to on our first visit to London together. The water below is rough. My death will be quick and hopefully pretty painless.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess this is it. I don’t know if I’ll write in here again so I’ll say goodbye now. You’ve been a good friend over these past few months. You always listened when I had to distract myself from the desire to cut. Phil will probably find this at some point so Phil, I love you with my body, heart and soul (not that they’re a real thing) to death. I hope you find happiness and a lovely partner. I hope you succeed in your career and everything else you could ever want. I wish you the best of luck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Goodbye,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Daniel James Howell</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil pulled his phone from his pocket as quickly as humanly possible and dialled the only phone number in his favourites list.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Dan’s voice said through the phone. Phil let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. His plan said another six days but Phil was still terrified.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan,” Phil breathed out. “Um, how long till you’ll be home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, twenty minutes? Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No reason. I was just wondering. See you then.” Phil hung up and put the diary back in Dan’s drawer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Going to the bathroom, he turned on the bath and selected a bath bomb. Placing it in the water, Phil watched it fizz and the clear water explodes with a wonderful mix of colours.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan arrived home exactly twenty minutes later. Phil collected the bags from Dan’s hands and told him there was a bath awaiting him. Dan simply nodded and went to the bathroom to see the entire room was lit by candlelight and the bath was steaming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well I never really thought you’d come tonight,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When the crown hangs heavy on either side.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To say Phil was idiotic would be a massive understatement. He stirred pasta while Dan sat in the other room battling with his own mind. Phil knew the date, he’d engraved the date in his mind years ago as Dan’s birthday, but this particular year held so much more importance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil still hadn’t mentioned what he found in Dan’s bedside drawer out of pure awkwardness. He regretted keeping silent the entire week, internally begging himself to speak to Dan. But now, stood in front of the stove with pasta cooking, he had a plan in his mind. The plan said Dan would walk to the bridge so Phil planned to intervene and stop him. It was risky, he knew it, and he’d never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t stop Dan but it was too late just to bring it up casually at dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they sat down at the dining table, Dan dressed in a black long-sleeve shirt and skinny jeans. Phil never paid much attention to the long sleeves at first but now it was all he could think about whenever he saw the boy. The thought of the damage that could be hiding underneath was enough to make him lose his appetite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you going to eat?” Dan asked curiously as he stabbed some pasta onto his fork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve lost my appetite, sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologise. Are you feeling okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just feeling a little nauseous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll clean up,” he suggested kindly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s your birthday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I insist. You’ve done so much today, don’t overwork yourself. Go have a nap.” Phil nodded quietly and lay down on the couch on the other side of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t sleep. No, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleep. He listened to Dan’s sounds as he moved around the kitchen, lightly humming a song that was familiar to Phil but couldn’t be placed. If he fell asleep, he’d miss Dan leaving and may not be able to save him. He couldn’t risk closing his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After around twenty minutes, Dan peeked into the room and, seeing Phil asleep, placed his note on the kitchen counter and walked down the endless stairs, leaving the apartment. Phil peeled his eyes open seconds after hearing the front door close. He figured Dan wouldn’t leave if Phil was still awake and the longer he lay there, the higher the chance he actually fall unconscious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing from the couch, he quickly slid on a coat and exited the flat. He hailed a cab, figuring he’d get there quicker than Dan who was walking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god, what if he decided to get a cab too?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Phil’s mind was reeling and he was rethinking all his actions from the past week. Why hadn’t he just confronted Dan? Yeah, it would have been awkward but at least they’d both be safe in their flat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil instructed the cabbie towards the bridge and, as they approached, Phil wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. “I know I don’t know you but if you’re planning to, please don’t jump. There’s always a better option and I promise you’ll find a way out. I’ve been close to jumping too, only to be stopped by a good friend of mine. I’ve never been more thankful to have her in my life than I was at that moment. So please, don’t jump. Call a friend, a family member, even a hotline. Just, please, don’t let your chance at life slip,” the cab driver ended his speech as they pulled up to the bridge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Sir, but I’m not planning to jump. I’m planning to save my friend,” Phil explained, smiling despite the water pooling in his eyes. The fact that a complete stranger would be willing to try and convince someone not to jump - and probably physically intervene if need be - restored Phil’s faith in humanity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, in that case, I hope you succeed in helping your friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Sir, me too,” Phil said, handing over twice the amount of money the trip should have cost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sir, you’ve given me too much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think of it as a thank you for being such a lovely human. Um, could I get your number, so I can get more cab rides from you? You’re a great person.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man nodded, opening the glove box and pulling out a card, “Here you go. Now, go help your friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil thanked the man again and closed the door. Wandering out onto the bridge, he panicked, thinking he was too late. Dan wasn’t there yet. Did that mean he’d jumped already? Phil looked over the bridge, seeing the crashing dark blue waves below. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe he changed his mind and just went for a walk?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Phil thought hopefully. He knew it was too good to be true when a figure dressed in all black stumbled their way onto the large bridge, curly brown hair ruffled from the wind. As if a scene from a film, rain started pouring down. Dan didn’t take any notice though; he just continued to stumble forwards towards the bridge’s middle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never really thought you’d come tonight,” Phil yelled to be heard over the rain. He saw Dan’s head shoot up, making eye contact: bright blue eyes too swollen red ones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Dan yelled back, voice clearly exhausted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Helping you. You don’t want to die tonight, Dan. You’ve got so much to live for, to survive for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like what?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your family, your fans, me. Is none of that important?” They were still yelling, Dan refusing to step any closer to Phil in case the older tried to physically restrain him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s important anymore! No one loves me, no one ever has. Just leave, Phil. Let me do what I came to do,” Dan stopped speaking and turned towards the bridge, hands reaching for the cold wet railing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan stop!” Phil yelled, taking steps forward. Tears mixed with rain on his face as he shouted, desperate for Dan to stay on solid ground. Dan ignored his friend, lifting his leg up onto the ledge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We're far too young to die,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Far too young to die.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seconds later, Dan’s other foot was following but so was Phil. He wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist, pulling him back and off the shelf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil pulled the boy to the ground and wrapped him in his arms. Dan’s sobs became louder and he stopped fighting, stretching his arms around Phil and pressing his face into the older’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The crown hangs heavy on either side,” Phil whispered, hugging Dan as tightly as possible. After a few minutes, he tilted the boys head up, eyes meeting. “We’re far too young to die,” he continued. Dan nodded before leaning in and connecting their lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kiss lingered for a few seconds, Phil not pulling away. Dan’s lips on his felt good and, even though they were both soaked from the rain, it was the most romantic thing Phil could imagine. “Far too young to die,” Phil whispered again, going back to rocking the broken Dan in his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fixation or psychosis,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Devoted to neurosis now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were sat on the couch, hot chocolates in their hands and the fireplace heating their icy skin. “I’m sorry,” Dan said quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize. Just, can you explain why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m really messed up, Phil. How could someone as lucky as me want what I wanted. Like, what the fuck? I’m so messed up. To want to end my life? No normal person would ever want that. People actively avoid death and I step toward it headfirst. What the hell is wrong with me?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s not something you can control. We’ll get you through this, I promise, okay? You just have to trust me; can you do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nodded, removing his hands from the warmth of the blanket to swipe at his cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Dan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just because you believe something, doesn’t mean it’s true. I like you Dan, a lot. Might even go as far as to say I’m in love with you. So don’t ever say that no one loves you, because I know for a fact that at least one person does.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Endless romantic stories,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You never could control me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Phil. I do, but, you’ll find someone better. Ending relationships hurt and I’d rather never have a relationship in the first place than experience that pain again. I’m happy alone, I’m used to it. People don’t settle down with the first person they fall in love with. Hell, some people never settle down. I’m okay with that, I’d just rather not have the heartbreak as well. No one stays with their first partner. They get bored and move on. That’s just how it is.” Dan rested his chin between his knees, eyes staring intently at the warm fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, for starters, who said you’d be my first partner? And second, I disagree with your whole view. I know many people who have settled down with the first person they’ve dated, my parents for one. Besides, we’ve known each other for years. I haven’t gotten sick of you yet and I doubt you could get rid of me even if you wanted.” Dan smiled at that, his cheeks going a light pink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what? Okay, you’ll date me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he said again, leaning forward, blanket sliding off his lap, and connecting his lips with Phil’s. The kiss lasted longer this time, soft lips pressed against slightly chapped ones. When Dan pulled back, they both had big smiles on their faces.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should probably go to sleep. It’s,” he paused, checking his phone, “almost two in the morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> late for us,” Dan joked, pulling Phil to his feet. They began walking towards their rooms before Phil stopped, causing Dan to as well since they were holding hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, can you- would you- um,” Phil stuttered, eyes going from each of their bedrooms doors to Dan’s dull brown glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to keep an eye on me. Fine, whatever, let’s go,” Dan agreed but his tone said he was anything but happy to do so. Phil whispered a “thank you” as they climbed into Dan’s bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next few days were a struggle. Dan refused to get out of bed and do anything while Phil panicked and begged him to “at least eat!” Days ended with Phil climbing into the still-warm bed and whispering “good night” to Dan who never replied, only laying with eyes open staring at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new morning began with Phil blinking open his eyes and stretching. His hand felt cold fabric on the other side of the bed, making his mind clear much faster than it usually did. He sat up in bed, looking around for Dan. Ripping the blanket off his legs, he ignored the cold rush of air that attacked his skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly moved through the hallway, checking the lounge and bathroom. Eventually, he made his way to the kitchen where he saw Dan making pancakes. “Jesus Dan, don’t ever do that again,” Phil said, finally letting his heart slow and his shoulders sink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘m sorry. I didn’t realise I’d scare you,” Dan mumbled, looking down at his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay. Just, don’t do it again. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” Phil moved to behind Dan, wrapping his arms around the slightly shorter man and kissing his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed to thank you for, well, everything,” Dan explained, flipping the pancake that was currently being cooked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s never too late,” Phil said, kissing his cheek once more before running out of the room. Dan could hear his feet pounding on the soft ground as he ran back to his bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, Dan entered Phil’s bedroom, a tray filled with pancakes and a glass of orange juice. Phil shuffled so he was sitting against the headboard and complimented Dan on the cooking as he took his first bite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did I do to deserve you?” Phil asked, moaning at the syrupy goodness in his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil almost missed it as Dan mumbled, “That’s what I’ve been asking myself.” Phil looked at him, debating whether he should say anything but before getting the chance, Dan stood up from the edge of the bed and spoke again. “If it’s okay, can I play the piano?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil was a little shocked by the question but nodded anyway, “Of course, you don’t need to ask.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan smiled and left the room. A few seconds later, Phil heard the twinkle of keys coming from Dan’s room. The notes he played sounded familiar but they were yet to form an actual song. After a minute or so of Dan getting used to the feeling, he began playing. Phil recognised the song almost instantly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>This Is Gospel</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The song Dan played the morning Phil found his journal, his plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil immediately removed the tray from his lap, placing it on the bed beside him. He walked from his room into Dan’s and rested his head atop his boyfriend’s. “Are you okay?” he whispered as Dan continued to play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He only hummed in reply, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “Dan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m alright. This is just the song I know best. Why? Do you not like it?” His fingers stopped moving across the black and white keys as he looked to Phil.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No no, it’s not that. It’s just a little, depressing maybe? Do you know any happier songs?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I know one,” he said, looking back down to his piano and hitting the keys for this new song. After a short amount of preparation, his fingers moved along the keys yet again, emitting a beautiful harmony throughout the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil couldn’t work out what the song was. It didn’t sound familiar at all. All he could think was that it was a magnificent song that he’d have to add it to his iTunes library.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s fingers stopped moving as he held the final note. “Well, what do you think?” he asked, the piano slowly becoming silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was so beautiful. You’re so talented. What song was that though? I don’t recognise it.” Phil watched as Dan’s cheeks turned pink and he hid behind his fringe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a song you’d know. I wrote it myself,” he admitted quietly, still not looking up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what? There’s no way you wrote that,” Phil replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did. I’m glad you liked it.” Phil pulled Dan from his seat and hugged him tightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are so amazingly talented, Dan. You’re so wonderful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan smiled, cheeks still pink, and whispered, “thank you,” to the other. Phil was filled with warmth as Dan accepted his compliment and didn’t try to bring himself back down with his own beliefs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil stood, looking into the mirror and adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. To say he was scared would be an understatement. He was pretty sure he’d never been this nervous and excited at the same time before. Today, three years exactly after Phil saved Dan from his mind, they were getting married.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Call them sappy, but they were getting married in the park near the bridge. They weren’t particularly keen to relive that fateful night but it held great importance to both of them and Phil wouldn’t undo it if he could. It was a part of their history and Phil cherished every second since they met in Manchester back in 2009.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Phil, are you ready?” Martin, his best man, asked from outside the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I’ll ever be,” Phil replied, opening the door to see his brother’s large smile and bright blue eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit. Come on, guests are waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Phil was standing next to the minister who was running the event, he turned to scan the crowd. All his friends and family had shown up. He could also see Dan’s family members and some of his old uni friends they’d decided to invite. He was excited by the amount of people who’d got dressed up just to celebrate his love for Dan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, the feeling in his chest increased tenfold when he saw Dan. The man, with now-embraced curls and a small black flower-crown on his head, was stunningly gorgeous. Phil thought he might have fallen even more in love with Dan if that was even possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ceremony went without a hitch, until the reception. There was a mixup with the seats and a little confusion but everything was sorted out pretty quickly, everyone able to socialise with those they knew. Dan and Phil sat at the head of the room, right in the centre of a long table. On either side where their brothers, who also doubled as their best man’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, it was time to dance and, as always, the newlyweds got to go first. Phil lightly took Dan’s hand and led him onto the white dancefloor that had sparkles and flower petals strewn across it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The song began and they started dancing. They swayed gently to a song that was not for slow-dancing but they made it work. Phil started gently singing the lyrics as they moved, “Well I never really thought you’d come tonight, when the crown hangs heavy on either side. Give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The people who thought marriage was a sacred ceremony not to be messed with could be damned. They were not a regular couple, who said anything about there marriage having to fit societal norms. At least they’d had the courtesy to pay someone to slow the song down but still have it sound good. It was their song and from their proposal, though it was unspoken, they both knew this would be their first dance as a married couple.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two newlyweds had a lovely evening with friends and family. Dan was happy and content with life, Phil much the same. They shared kisses in between dances. Phil had to dance a few slow songs with his niece, leaving Dan to standoff at the side of the room, watching on with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you offer me this dance?” Phil said, voice charming as he bowed and extended his hand. Dan just giggled and took his </span>
  <span>boyfriend’s</span>
  <span> husband’s hand, being led back onto the dance floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After another few years, and lots of discussions later, Dan and Phil decided to have a baby. They agreed they wanted a surrogate mother but the question soon became who got to be the father. One night, they were lying in bed together, hand in hand, listening to their own thoughts and breathing as they awaited sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you to be the father,” Dan whispered into the silence. Phil turned to look at him, Dan soon following the action.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a specific reason why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan ducked his head but nodded. Phil had seen this side of Dan many times before but that never meant he liked seeing his husband shy and afraid. “Bear, you can tell me. It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to pass on my genes. I don’t want our kid to go through what I have,” Dan whispered, tears slipping from his eyes as he thought about the years he spent at war with himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Babe, don’t cry. Your opinion is valid and I trust and love you. While it’s no guarantee the genetics will carry, I can understand your hesitation. And I want you to know, even if the baby has my genes, they will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> will both be their father.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so that’s how the decision was made and thirty-eight weeks later, their little baby girl was ready to come into the world. Early like her father. But, due to the early nature she shared with her father, she’d only get to meet one of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan was away on a holiday in Sweden with his parents and brother after Phil insisted he needed a break from the stress of life and planning for a baby. At first, Dan was afraid to leave in case there were any complications with their innocent little infant but Phil eventually convinced him. Though now, he was beginning to rethink his actions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil’s phone was pressed to his ear as he made his way to the hospital. Amelia, their surrogate and Dan’s close friend, was already there breathing through contractions as little Aurora/Olivia/Sophia prepared to push her way into the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Phil, what’s up?” Dan’s calm voice came through the phone. If only he knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, not much. How’s Sweden?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amazing. I forgot how nice it was to get away from London. Once the baby’s old enough, we need to go back to Japan. Oh! Maybe Florida’s better. We could go to Disney World then,” Dan began rambling as he thought about holidays that were still years away at least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan, listen. About the baby,” Phil began, only to be cut off by Dan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, Phil, tell me she’s okay. Nothing can happen now. We’re so close, Phil please, tell me she’s safe. I swear to god-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan, she’s fine. Actually, she’s ready to join us. Amelia’s in labour,” Phil said excitedly. He ignored the taxi driver's disgusted looks towards him. Nothing was going to ruin this wonderful evening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming home,” Dan said determinedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Dan, that’s ridiculous. Your flights in three days, just wait.” Dan never answered as his phone went flat. “Stay in Sweden, Dan. You need the break,” he said quietly to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They arrived at the hospital quickly and Phil paid the cabbie, only giving him a small tip because of his homophobic-filled glares during the drive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He asked the desk attendant to lead him to Amelia and he joined her in the room. She’d already given permission months ago for Dan and Phil to be in the room when the baby was born. Her face was contorted in pain as Phil entered and took a seat beside her. “Are you the father?” asked one of the nurses in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Phil answered, choosing not to explain the surrogate situation at that exact time. He lightly grabbed her hand to which she squeezed hard enough to almost fracture bones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two hours later, they were still working through contractions but the doctors were beginning to prepare Amelia for giving birth. They said it could still be another thirty to sixty minutes before any big changes though. They said the birth seemed to be going well so far and the baby was ready to come out head first as hoped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil panicked every time they spoke about her lower regions. It wasn’t that he was too gay to even imagine female genitalia, it was just weird to hear about a friend’s cervix in such detail. After another hour and a half, the doctors said it wouldn’t be long until stage two of the birth, not that Phil knew what that meant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just concentrated on helping Amelia through her contractions and attempting to ignore what was going on below the tarp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door swung open and Phil didn’t look up, assuming it was another doctor or nurse coming to check up or help. “Phil,” a familiar panicked voice said from behind him. He quickly turned his head, seeing his husband looking incredibly distressed next to the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan, what? Oh you idiot,” he said kindly as he caught up with what Dan had done. He stood, forcing his abused hand free from Amelia’s grip and moved to hug Dan. “I never really thought you’d come tonight,” he said into Dan’s ear without realising he was quoting </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> song. He did realise after a few seconds though and liking how fitting it was, he continued. “When the crown hangs heavy on either side,” he said softly before pulling away from Dan. “Ready to become a father? The doctors said it won’t be long now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nodded, “Yeah, I think I’m ready to meet our beautiful daughter.” As if Dan’s confirmation signalled the baby, a nurse said, “she’s entering stage two,” above the rest of the noise. Dan and Phil took a seat next to Amelia and helped her through her contractions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After another hour or two - honestly, they lost track of time - the baby’s head came into sight. A few minutes later and their daughter was born. Phil was unsure if they were supposed to make noise straight away but the deathly silence of the newborn was concerning, to say the least. Phil held Dan’s hand tightly as Dan helped Amelia remain calm from his seat next to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seconds later, their little girl was being rushed into another room. Dan, eyes filled with panic, looked to Phil for answers. “Sir,” one of the doctors said. “May I speak with you for a second?” Phil nodded and told Dan to wait with Amelia. He followed the doctor into another room where his child was. “Firstly, congratulations on your little girl, you’re a lot calmer than most fathers. But, more importantly, one of her lungs in underdeveloped. It’s called neonatal respiratory distress syndrome. We’ve got our best doctors with her at the moment doing everything they can to get her stable but we have no guarantees. We prefer it if you’d wait to tell your wife as the birth is not over yet and distress now could cause her harm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil took in all their information before it finally sunk in. His little girl, his little princess, may not come out of the hospital wrapped in warm clothes, sleeping in his or his husband’s arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I see her, please?” Phil asked, already able to guess the answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sir, not yet. She’s being taken care of as best we can,” he said, sympathy in his voice. Phil nodded sadly, turning to walk back towards Dan and Amelia. There was still work to do and informing the other two would not improve their daughter’s chances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Phil, what happened? Is she okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope so,” he answered. He didn’t want to explain now, knowing how Dan would react, but he couldn’t lie to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another half-hour or so later, Amelia was in recovery and Aurora/Olivia/Sophia was undertaking surgery. Amelia reacted quite well, knowing there was nothing she could do to help the baby and that it was just a waiting game. Dan, on the other hand, began hitting Phil in an attempt to get past him and to his little girl. Phil had to physically restrain him from running off which unkindly reminded Phil of when he had to hold Dan back from the rushing water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a lot of waiting and a lot of tears, a doctor dressed in light blue came in, a neutral expression on his face. Dan and Phil jumped to their feet immediately, desperate for news about their struggling child. “She’s in recovery now. The surgery went well and we’re confident she will survive. You can visit her if you like but please do not be alarmed by the wires, needles and tubes attached to her. They are only to maintain and monitor her vitals. We request that only the biological parents see her at this stage as there are still things that can go wrong and overwhelming her with family members will increase those chances.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil looked to Dan, tears of joy and worry filling his eyes. “Please sir, can my husband come too? She’s our daughter. Amelia was our surrogate,” Phil explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, our policies state only the biological parents can visit a baby after birth complications. If you want, your husband can watch from the viewing room?” They knew it wasn’t ideal but it was as good as they were going to get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three of them followed the doctor, Phil and Amelia going through a different door to Dan. They moved over to Aurora/Olivia/Sophia and Phil lightly touching her arm, desperate to feel his little girl. He wanted to pick her up, to know she was safe in his arms but restrained himself. That could be detrimental to her survival and he would never do anything to jeopardize that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia began to cry and the baby followed. They each grabbed a hand softly so she knew she wasn’t alone. “Well I never really thought you’d come tonight,” Phil sang sweetly. “When the crown hangs heavy on either side. Give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die. Far too young to die.” Phil didn’t know but Dan began crying in the glassed off room as he heard what his husband was singing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Four days later, Dan had Olivia wrapped in his arms, a birth certificate in Phil’s. They were finally leaving the hospital. After a bumpy road little Olivia was finally ready to come home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This week marked Olivia’s seventh birthday. It was hard to believe she’d been with Dan and Phil for that long. They’d taken her to Disney World as Dan had originally planned and she had a fantastic time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Currently, Dan was lying in his and Phil’s bed, clinging to his husband’s pillow as tears spilled from his eyes. Olivia had gone to spend two weeks down south with her nana and papa (Dan’s parents).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s fingers fumbled towards the phone and shakily brought it to his ear. “H-hello?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, is this Daniel Howell-Lester I’m speaking with?” a solemn voice asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes. Is-Is Phil okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s getting much worse, sir. We think he’s got hours left, a day at most.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan sobbed into the phone, not even trying to contain himself. The love of his life was being ripped away within hours. “Can I, um, can I come see him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’d love that, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-Okay, bye.” The person on the other end hung up and Dan stumbled around the flat, grabbing his keys and wallet. He called for a taxi and got to the hospital quickly. He knew which room to go to. He headed down the hallway, seeing the sign labelling it as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cancer Care Unit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He ignored it, on a mission to get to his husband.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he slowly opened the door, he was met with mostly darkness on the inside. “I never r- really thought-” Phil began before stopping to cough. “Never thought you’d come tonight,” he wheezed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s eyes filled with water yet again as he rushed to his husband’s side, grabbing and squeezing his hand. “Of course I’d come. You’re the love of my life,” he said, lifting Phil’s hand to kiss it. The man was deathly pale, much more so than what was normal for the vampire-skinned man. He was skinny and it was clear to anyone that his light was fading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How-” he paused, coughing again. “How’s Olivia?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s okay. She’s with mum and dad in Brighton. I didn’t want her here for when you go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad. Hey Dan, take care of her, will you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I will. She’s our little baby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid she’s not so little anymore, love. But, take care of yourself too, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Phil. Will do. Rest now, I’m here, I’ve got you.” They lay in silence, the only sound the slow beeping on the heart monitor and Dan’s light humming. “Phil?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man opened his grey eyes, all the blues and greens and yellows having faded along with him. “Hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never really thought you’d go tonight,” he said, a watery smile appearing on his face through the tears. “When the crown hangs heavy on either side. Kiss me one last time while we’re far too young to die,” he stopped singing, hiccuping before kissing Phil deeply. This was the last kiss they’d ever share, neither were going to hide their emotions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re far too young to die,” Dan continued as the heart monitor’s beeping began to get slower and slower.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Far too young to die,” Dan sobbed, a neverending buzz filling the room.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Extra TW: Cancer &amp; death.</p><p>Let me know what you think! Feedback/Constructive criticism is always welcome!</p><p>Check out my tumblr if you’re interested in more —&gt; fadingcrystalvoid.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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